


A strange bargain

by Andaletahina



Category: DnD - Fandom, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Artificer, D&D, Developing Relationship, Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Dungeons & Dragons References, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Faerûn, Forgotten Realms - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Penis In Vagina Sex, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship, Thieves Guild, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Warlocks, Waterdeep, rogue - Freeform, sword coast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24403900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andaletahina/pseuds/Andaletahina
Summary: Xanthe Quinn, offers Adoril an influential member of one of the thieves guilds in merry Waterdeep a strange bargain. She has much to guard and to loose (her young brother and wards, as well as her tinkers shop) and will become his faithful mistress for his protection…
Relationships: Original Elf Character(s)/Original Elf Character(s), Original Female Character(s)/Other(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Half-Elf Character(s) & Original Human Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	A strange bargain

**A strange bargain**

_Existence is a strange bargain. Life owes us little; we owe it everything. The only true happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a purpose._

\- William Cowper

Xanthe had known Adoril for years – he had agreed to a private meeting, as she knew he would. However, that did not mean that he would agree to her “proposal”.

Her mind was still reeling from what had happened two days before. She was on her guard and kept looking around.

For the life of her, she could not remember what exactly had happened. She only saw flashes of the silvery arc of the knife and the explosion of energy, the feeling of cold slightly wet stone underneath her and the incredible pain when the blade missed its mark but still hit and wounded her, the sharp feeling of it scraping between bones…

She shook herself. The first clear memory was of how she entered her workshop from the back alley running parallel of Beacon Street. Leaving bloody fingerprints on the door, which she carefully removed in the morning. And making her way up the rickety old stair, doing her best not to wake the kids and cleaning herself up in the privacy of her own bedroom.

The blood had been everywhere, her chest, her back, her hands; it had run onto her stomach and dropped on her legs. She burned the clothes that she had worn and as she had watched the flame consuming fabric and blood, she considered for the first time talking to the City Guard of Waterdeep.

An unhappy laugh had escaped her, as she knew that it would not help - she was no longer a street rat, but still far from important. She had no recollection of where they robed men had taken her, or who they were and – looking at the fireplace – she had just removed the last traces of evidence.

The wound over her heart underneath her collarbone had miraculously closed as well. It looked like a weeks old scar. Still red and angry looking, but no one would believe her that it stemmed from a murder attempt just a few hours ago. She touched it carefully wincing as she traced it. “Why am I not dead?” she wondered.

She considered the guards again – no, better to lay low.

It never helped drawing attention of any kind. The guards had never really made a big difference when it came to her or her younger brother Xyrins safety. They had a tendency only to show up, when you needed them the least and making things more complicated. Over the years, when her mistrust had been enforced time and time again, she had gotten used to working around them, instead of with them.

Xanthe had been so jumpy all day that even Mardove, one of her wards, high on the Halfling weed he discovered only recently, noticed it. She knew that she needed a new means to ensure their safety.

Therefore, she let Adoril her contact in the thieves’ guild know that she wanted to talk and he invited her to a private meeting in the “Swords Rest” inn.

The evening was warm, but she rubbed her arms in an attempt to rub away a feeling of cold dread that chilled her from the inside out. Nervous butterflies made her feel queasy.

She had not felt as unsettled in a very long time. Colorful motes of light seemed to appear now and then in her vision, her sight going blurry, showing her bright colors and she wondered if the blade had been coated in something, or if she had a concussion, or if something else was the matter with her.

 _“Untapped potential”_ echoed the voice of the dark robed man in her mind. But she pushed it away, as was her habit with uncomfortable memories.

Instead, she tried to focus on her goal. Adoril. He was higher up in the hierarchy of the thieves’ guild then he let on. Of that, she was sure. While she did not trust the guards, her gut told her, that he would not betray her. He had the means to keep her safe and if he agreed to a bargain, he would stick to it – to the last letter. She just had to make sure that she would not get more than she wanted or had to give up more than she was willing to.

So she decided to press her advantage – under her nondescript cloak, instead of her usual heavy-duty work boots and the smiths vest and apron she usually favored, she wore instead a pair of light feminine boots with a low heel and fastened with shining buttons. A pair of colorful tight leggings and an elven tunic made of raw silk dyed in purple, mauve and sage green. It was held closed with a sash that was covered in embroidery of flowers and butterflies.

The clothes most likely had been stolen; as she got them herself for a steal on one of the little back alley flea markets in the northern part of the Dock Ward.

However, being half-elven like her, she knew that Adoril might like them. If not? Well, they also showed off her long, well-shaped legs and small waist. In addition, the tunic opened in such a way that it hinted at cleavage without making her look like she was ready to go back again to walk streets like Coin Alley or Sail Street at night.

She nervously adjusted the sash and tried to calm herself. The man had been staring at her in the attire she wore in her workshop and had never seen her in anything else. She would have surprise on her side and if he saw her in the outfit that screamed that she was a young, attractive (and vulnerable) female he would have a hard time saying no. Or so she hoped…

Xanthe entered the _“Swords Rest”_ only to be ushered by the barmaid Linda through the crowd to the stairs of the first floor. “He is waiting for you upstairs – last door on the right”, Linda had whispered into her ear.

Her heart beating too fast she made her way up and knocked at the indicated door. Instead of a voice, calling her in, the door was abruptly opened, startling her for a moment, as Adoril scanned the hallway before taking her arm and pulling her inside. He was a very good-looking half-elf, with a dusky skin tone, in his late 40s, early 50s with a Van Dyke beard and well coifed dark hair with silver at the temples. Even with the boots adding at least an inch to her 5 feet he practically towered over her, even though he was of only medium height.

Adoril had let go of her arm and leaned over her with a questioning look, as she looked around a dimly lit receiving room belonging to a bedchamber that she could see through a second door on the right.

Closing the door behind him, he said, “There is no new delivery due for a few more days…” but trailed off as she pushed back the hood of her cloak and opened it, giving him the first glimpse of her attire.

“And good evening to you as well”, she said smiling up at him. “I am not here on…” she tilted her head “… _guild_ business, but to discuss a different kind of deal”

He blinked surprised and uttered. “Good evening” with a puzzled expression he looked her up and down, and then smiled motioning her over to a small table and a set of chairs.

“A deal you say? – You have piqued my interest. Please do be seated.”

He took her cloak and hung it beside his own to a clothes rack on the wall beside the door before he joined her at the table.

When Xanthe caught him eyeing her appreciatively again, she crossed one leg over the other.

"I would like to expand our business relationship." She hid her anxiety behind an inviting smile.

Adoril sad down, still trying to take her measure he frowned and leaned forward. "What did you have in mind?"

Looking briefly away, Xanthe replied, "The _guild_ has helped me gather the funds I needed, but I suddenly find myself not in need of money, but more direct… help."

Swallowing hard she almost absently touched the scar through her tunic, drawing his gaze there. Noting his look she let her smile widen and her hand gliding down till it rested in her lap again. She gave him a flirty wink.

"I noticed how you look at me. I can tell that you want me. You are not seeing anyone and... From the boys I know that you don’t like certain establishments and you don't like to pay for certain services."

She looked away for a moment, taking a deep breath, gathering her resolve.

"I propose a business arrangement. I am in need of protection. In exchange for my safety, that of those in my care and protection of my shop I will..." she looked him into the eyes, "...I would… be yours."

His eyes widened in surprise, his mouth opened but she stopped him by holding up her hand and continuing.

"As business partners we would continue as we did before. Be honest, only trade information that is needed, or we feel comfortable sharing. I would ask no unwelcome questions. You could come and go as you please and not have to explain anything. None of us would have to pretend to feel anything more but respect for the other. There would be no need for gifts and there would be no money exchanged. And you would not have to worry about diseases or other unwanted... complications."

She paused.

"In addition I want this kept on the down low. I don't want my brother to go looking for trouble and we will never meet at my place."

She swallowed and looked away again her cheeks reddening "Oh and nothing that leaves... permanent marks."

Adorils head tilted, squinting his eyes, a frown waring with a look of confusion and the beginning of a smirk at her last remark. He shook his head.

"I don’t understand. Don’t get me wrong. It is a tempting offer” He looked at her and shook his head again. “A very tempting offer. But what brought this on? I am honored, but why me?"

Xanthe leaned forward "Adoril don’t play coy with me. I picked you because I know you. We have worked well with each other. You are a man that respects boundaries. You look, but never touch or try for more than is offered. We get along well. You have the means to give the protection I need and I trust you to honor a bargain. Also..." she grinned "you are easy on the eyes, warming your bed will be no hardship" she winked.

The smirk won and his eyes sparkled with merriment before his face got businesslike again.

"I see" his eyes turned calculating and he considered for a moment. "Before I agree I need to know who is after you and I want to add a clause to our arrangement"

Her heart plunged and the feeling of nausea intensified. She did her best to not let it show on her face; instead, she bit her lower lip drawing his eyes there and asked softly "What clause?"

"If we agree to this, then I want _'exclusivity'_ for as long as this bargain stands. In addition, I want to know well in advance when you want to terminate the arrangement - I do not want to come back from a trip finding out that you... _replaced_ me. Do you understand?"

Xanthe saw the flicker of old pain in his dark eyes. She nodded. She had no interest in a romantic or physical relationship in the first place. If it were up to her she would not bed anyone, so as promises go, this one would be easy to keep.

"Fair enough,” she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue “let me summarize: We both keep our freedom, no questions asked, no money traded and in exchange for your protection and interest in my wellbeing, I would be yours, and yours alone. And if we want to end our agreement, we will let each other know early enough to account for it." She looked at him, trying to read his expression and the flicker of emotion in his dark eyes. She swallowed nervously. "Do we have an agreement?" She worried her lower lip.

He watched her and gave a soft groan, rubbing his face. "Agreed. Now tell me who you need protection from, before I can't control myself anymore"

She grinned at him, but sobered quickly as she described the dark robed figures that had picked her of the street, wanting to sacrifice her and the explosion.

"They were magic-users; I don't think they were very competent ones. I do not remember what happened after the explosion. Next thing I found myself at the backdoor of the workshop."

He asked a few more questions, she answered as truthful as she could, but she could give him not much more details.

He pondered for a moment, and then said, "You don't have to worry. I will look into this and take care of it from now on. I promise you will be perfectly safe."

"So… the last evidence is the wound?" he gazed towards her collarbone. "Let me see - just to make sure it's all right of course" and he winked at her.

She smirked. “Fine” She got up. “I will show you the wound and everything else you want to see – after all you need to inspect the business assets you bargained for." She walked over to him with a lascivious smile.

Adoril opened his arms pulling her on his lap.

"I would like that very much"

She swallowed hard. Old fear rearing its ugly head as she suddenly was so close to another. In her mind, she told herself that this was different and it was necessary, but she could not stop a shiver as she felt his arms closing around her. Still, she pushed the top of the tunic a bit to the side – just enough to show him the scar. He watched intently every movement. His eyes focused on the wound, inspecting it. He murmured words of comfort and tried to gauge the length and type of knife, that caused it and asking more questions like "how old did you say this is? Less than two days? Some magic or alchemy must have been used to heal it"

Xanthe nodded wordlessly trying to suppress a wince and shiver as he softly traced the scar. When his fingers strayed away from the healed wound running over her collarbone and playing with the embroidery of the tunic, she told herself “time to honor the bargain” and opened the sash. She tugged the belt-like piece of cloth free and loped it around Adorils neck like a scarf, teasing the tip of his nose and cheeks with the silky fringe of it. He closed his eyes for a moment, before looking up into her eyes. He smiled like a cat that knew that the canary was in reach.

He pulled her closer, the tunic opening wider now that the sash was gone. His hand traveled from her collarbone to her sternum, tracing down between her breasts, as the tunic gaped further and further apart. For a moment, both seemed to barely breathe until the silk finally drifted over her shoulders, gathering at her elbows like a shawl while baring her breasts completely.

Under his intense gaze and with cool air hitting her, her skin rose in goose bumps and her nipples became little hard nubs.

She shivered and a surprised sound escaped her when he suddenly shifted under her, gathered her close and stood up. "You are shivering with cold, let's take this somewhere warmer and more comfortable" he carried her to the bedchamber and sat her gently down at the foot end of the bed. He busied himself feeding the fire in the hearth, giving her a moment to take some much needed deep breaths to calm herself.

When he came back, he hunkered down in front of her – his hands rested lightly on her knees. From this position, his head was now only slightly lower than hers and they could look each other straight in the eye.

His gaze was intense and searching. “Just to be clear. Tell me ‘ _no’_ or ‘ _stop’_ and I will do so. I don’t thrive on pain or fear and I am in no habit to…”

She placed a finger on his lips to hush him. “It is all right. I am just… nervous, I guess. It’s been a while…” Xanthe trailed of blushing.

He looked thoughtful, but then he smiled behind her finger. “That is hard to believe. But tell me something else – just so we are on the same page – is kissing part of ‘all yours’?” His eyes looked oddly hopeful as he asked this.

For a fraction of a moment, she had a deer in the headlights look on her face, but she put it away so fast that it was hard to tell if it was just a trick of the firelight. She forced herself to give a soft laugh and to lean in – replacing her finger with her lips, whispering “Yes”.

Letting her lips glide over his, she hoped that he would not be able to tell, that she had never done this before. Maybe the proposal was not such a good idea after all. She expected this to be over quickly – just like bumping bits in a back alley. But Adoril showed no sign of wanting this to be over fast, she still wore most of her clothes. In addition, he had not taken off anything; he just patiently explored her lips with his, while his big but fine boned hands cradled her face, caressing her cheekbones and jaw.

After a moment, he used his hands to guide her head slightly to the side to allow for a better angle, and then let his right hand glide to her ear to stroke over her earlobe and up to the pointed tip. When he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the point, she could not suppress a startled deep intake of breath. She had not known that her ears would be this sensitive or that touching them could feel so good!

He smiled against her lips, but he did not give her time to say anything – never one to miss an opportunity Adoril used the slight opening of her lips as she gasped to let his tongue slip inside her mouth, where it tangled with her own.

The slow but passionate kiss, the caress of her ear – this felt much more intimate then anything she had done up to this date.

She could feel the dread recede as excitement started to replace fear. She let her hands glide into his hair, feeling the softness of the dark curls between her fingers, exploring the shape of his skull and then softly massaging the tense muscles of his neck.

He groaned and with one last caress of her lips moved to trace a line over her jaw with openmouthed kisses and then down the column of her throat. He softly bit the point where her neck and shoulder connected. Then Adoril looked up to gauge her reaction as he reached for her arms to help her out of the tunic, that still rested – forgotten – in the crook of her elbows.

She just smiled as he divested her of the tunic and turn about being fair play, with quick fingers, used to handle delicate tinker’s tools, she deftly unlaced his dark shirt. He helped her rid him of the garment, but when she reached for the fastening of his breeches, he stilled her hands and clasped them for a moment in his grasp.

His voice was rough, slightly raspy “My _inspection_ is not yet completed” he swallowed “…I want to see all of you. I want – to touch and kiss – all of you.”

He searched her gaze for permission.

Her heart beat a staccato – this definitely sounded like it would become a much longer… _procedure_ than anticipated – but so far things _had_ felt good and they _had_ formed an agreement. In her mind, she heard again his assurance of “…Tell me ‘ _no’_ or ‘ _stop’_ and I will do so…” and she acquiesced with a soft nod.

From his position – half kneeling, half squatting – at the foot end of the bed, he reached for her boots and slid them off her feet. One after the other. He caressed every foot and gave it a few quick massage like squeezes, that made her want to lie back and demand that he continued with that and forgot about any agreement.

But sadly he placed first one foot down then the other down and playfully traced the embroidered seam of the leggings on the outside of her legs. His hands moved up and as with her feet, he took a moment to squeeze her calves, a spot behind her knees, her thighs and her hips, before he finally reached for the fastening of the leggings.

Adoril opened the first tie and then loosened the laces – looking intently up into Xanthes eyes as he did so. Anxiety returned suddenly, and she let her fingers dig into the duvet covering the bed. Other than she showed no other outward sign of it, instead she smiled again, watching him through hooded eyes, hiding all traces of nervousness behind her practiced come-hither look.

When his hands moved to the top of the leggings to begin to slide them down, she lifted her hips up and he gave her a quick strangely grateful grin before he went back to watching as the raw silk of the leggings revealed inch by inch her long legs.

It had quickly become clear that she had not worn anything underneath the tunic or the leggings – she could see his eyebrows rise, as he removed the pants completely. His eyes roamed over her naked legs and lower body. His voice sounded a bid chocked “You have been very sure that this would work out in your favor, haven’t you?”

She tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. Her voice sounded raspy, as she said “Not sure, but optimistic.” _Fortune favors the bold Xanthe_ , she thought and after the tiniest hesitation, let her legs fall open.

His eyes snapped to the apex of her thighs, then after a heartbeat up to her face with the flaming cheeks. He surged towards her pulling her into a tight embrace, kissing her deeply. His tongue immediately invading her mouth, his hands once again touching her ears, playing with the pointed tips.

However, his mouth lingered not on hers, instead he again kissing down the side of her neck this time he moved directly towards her breasts, honing in on the pebbled dusky peaks. He lavished them with quick licks and kisses, intermitted by a few – surprisingly hard – sucks.

When she started to moan and move restlessly against him, he pushed her softly back and down so her back pressed against the slightly cool duvet, before he continued his trek downwards. With open-mouthed kisses, he made his way over her ribcage, down the planes of her stomach, nuzzling her belly button when he passed it by. Reaching the juncture of her thighs, he looked up the length of her body to divine her reaction.

When the pause continued she raised her head looking down and their eyes met. Holding her gaze, he smiled wickedly and lowered his mouth not breaking eye contact. 

"What in the nine hells?" She thought bewildered, "He really meant it when he said 'all of you'." Incredulity mixed with embarrassment as she let her head fall back, unwilling to hold his gaze or watch him, instead looking up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the scrutiny and the weird feeling of the first few passes of his mouth and tongue.

She started to wonder what the point of it all was, when suddenly he found the right spot. It was like the tip of her ear – surprising, a pleasurable and new feeling.

With a stifled sound of wonder and pleasure, she raised her head again, looking down, her eyes immediately looked with his.

One eyebrow raised, Adorils eyes glimmered almost devilish, but he did not stop what he was doing. And she found she did not want him to, because it felt good – soo good!

“This is like one of my gadgets”, Xanthe realized watching him, “like one of the firelighters – the sly fox is figuring out which buttons to press to spark flame.” Then all coherent thoughts fled.

It felt like he was winding a hidden spring in her abdomen tighter and tighter. His left hand moved to her belly, the palm pressing down on her pubic bone, his thumb and fingers spreading her to give him better access. His mouth focused on her clitoris – alternating between firm strokes with the flat of his tongue and delicate sucks. The index and middle finger of his right hand first rubbed gentle circles before he started to press them into her tight wet sheath. Moving them in and out a few times to let her get used to the intrusion, he then curled them upwards letting the spring uncoil almost violently. 

She could feel her muscles tense. Her vulva clasping the fingers inside her, as a powerful feeling of intense physical pleasure and sensation cursed through her like an electrical current. She bit her lip to keep a cry in. Her fingers dug deeper into the duvet and her head fell back down, like a marionette with cut strings. Her muscles felt like molten wax, warm soft and pliant.

Never had she felt like this. However, it was not hard to guess what had happened. When times had been desperate and Xyrin cried himself to sleep because he was so hungry, Xanthe had been forced to walk the streets of Dock Ward at night, letting sailors who could afford it, lift her skirt in a dimly lit back alley. On their sun tanned, weathered faces she had seen the exact expression that would go with such a feeling. “I don’t think I charged them enough,” she thought with a bitter smile. She wanted to laugh, cry, run, curl up into a ball and examine this new feeling - all at once.

But Adorils warm hands caressing her belly and thighs, placing kisses on the inside of her legs brought her back to the present moment. “Later” she promised herself and tried to pull herself together.

When Adoril rose from his hunkered down, half-kneeling position, she could see a frown forming on his brow. His eyes searching her face, he was about to ask something, but she cut him short, rising up from the bed to meet him halfway. She pulled him into an embrace and kissed him. Tasting herself on his lips only added to the surreal feeling that dominated the moment. “Get a grip and control the situation,” she admonished herself.

She turned to the side and half pushed half pulled him onto the bed so this time he was the one lying down.

Figuring that copying some of his moves might not be the worst idea, she kissed along his jawline and up to his left ear. A groan of pleasure was the reward for softly biting the earlobe and then kissing the pointed tip. Now kneeling beside him while he reclined, she never broke the kiss and let her hands run over his pectorals and exploring the flat muscular plane of his stomach and flanks, moving down and stroking his hardness through the cloth of his trousers.

He grumbled an almost inaudible expletive, before he abruptly pushed her hands aside and rid himself of what garments he had still been wearing in a jerky, almost violent movement. She expected him to grab her and roll her underneath him or press her down into the mattress. Instead, he enfolded her into his arms, pulling her onto his lap so that she straddled him.

Adorils hands on her hips he directed her movement, having her move back and forth, grinding against him. Pressing her hands against his chest, Xanthe pushed up into a kneeling position. Reaching between them, she grasped his hard erect shaft guiding the velocity so he was sliding between her labia rubbing over her clitoris. Both moaned at the intense contact. His fingers dug into her hips and he rumbled, “Stop torturing me and do it.”

She grinned and placed him at her entrance tilting her hip and moving downwards until he started to slide into her snug passage. His hips bucking upwards, he suddenly was seated to the hilt inside her. For the fraction of a moment, it was all too much.

The sudden intrusion and stretch felt nearly burning and stung as the tip of his penis came in sharp contact with the neck of her womb. An almost pained sound escaped her. His jaw clenched and he was breathing so hard it was as if he had run all the way from the South Ward to the Sea Ward. She leaned slightly forward changing the angle and decreasing the intensity of contact. The new angle put once more pressure on her clitoris and the next sound was once again one of pleasure instead of discomfort.

On an unspoken signal, they both started to move. Soon finding the rhythm to this oldest of dances. The feeling of the tighter coiling spring was back and mindless of everything around her, Xanthe went into pursuit of the release, she now knew waited for her.

Adorils hips bucking upwards and his left hand doubling down on the movement, he placed the thumb of his right hand on the bundle of nerves right at the apex of Xanthes thighs. The pressure of the circles he rubbed, exactly right, to tip her over the edge, she cried out, her body tensing, her channel for a moment rigid around him, then the convulsions of her inner muscles brought on his own orgasm, milking him dry as he released inside her.

Xanthe slumped on his chest; both were slick with sweat and breathing hard. His arms hugged her close and he kissed her brow his content sigh stirring her hair. For a moment she just enjoyed the aftermath of pleasure, listening to the beat of his heart underneath her ear. She grinned to herself – maybe this whole arrangement had not been such a bad idea after all. She kissed his chest and looked up at him with her trademark flirty smile in place.

“I have to say, it IS a pleasure doing business with you,” she quipped and felt his laugh reverberate through his chest.


End file.
